


Proof of Parentage

by beastlycheese, boushh2187, jackabelle73, MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330), RumbelleEvents



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Rumbelle - Fandom
Genre: F/M, FINISH THIS 2018, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Finish this, GROUP PURPLE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 00:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlycheese/pseuds/beastlycheese, https://archiveofourown.org/users/boushh2187/pseuds/boushh2187, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackabelle73/pseuds/jackabelle73, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/MarieQuiteContrarie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbelleEvents/pseuds/RumbelleEvents
Summary: Ten-year-old Gideon Gold is not happy: the kids at school think Rumple and Belle aren’t his real parents, and Robin Mills is the ringleader. When the Golds set out to prove the rumors are wrong, their adventures take a surprising twist. Or do they?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ALL FICS RATED M FOR SAFETY.
> 
> Chapter writer: @jackabelle73  
> PROMPT: BASTARD

The sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house, followed by rapid footsteps on the staircase. Another door slammed upstairs.

Rumplestiltskin emerged from his study and frowned up the steps, wondering what had upset Gideon. At ten, he was old enough to walk himself home from school each day, and normally would enter the house quietly, hang up his coat, and seek out whichever parent was home that afternoon to beg for an afterschool treat.

Rumple walked upstairs and knocked on his son’s closed door.

“Gideon? Everything all right?”

“Fine!” came the response, in a tone of voice that said he was anything but fine.

“I thought we’d bake some cookies this afternoon, if you want,” Rumple offered.

There was a pause, long enough for him to think the bribe had worked, till Gideon responded.

“No, thank you.”

Whatever was bothering Gideon, it must be significant for him to refuse cookies. Rumple turned the doorknob and found to his consternation that it was locked.

“Gideon, open this door right now. You’re not in trouble yet, but you will be if I have to use magic to open the door.”

There was a shuffling sound before the lock clicked. When Rumple tried the door again, it opened to reveal Gideon, the considerable length of him stretched diagonally across his bed, face buried in a pillow and turned away from the door. Rumple sighed and perched on the edge of the bed, patting his son’s jeans-clad calf.

“What’s got you upset? Maybe I can help.”

There was a long pause, broken by a sniffle, which only worried Rumple more. Gideon was a happy and carefree child for the most part, which was a relief to his parents. They’d feared that the dark and brooding personality of his grown self would carry over to his second childhood, but the uninhibited giggles of their infant son had soon set them at ease. As Gideon grew, he wanted for nothing that magic or money could obtain, and as an only child, was equally rich in love and attention from his doting parents.

For the past few years, their major fear had been that he was becoming too spoiled, and they’d adjusted their parenting style in hopes that they would not raise an ungrateful tyrant. Gideon had chores at home, and also helped his parents in the pawn shop and library. In addition, Rumple was starting to teach him a few simple magic spells, but they’d established a rule from the beginning of his magical lessons… whenever a task could be accomplished without magic, Gideon was taught both methods. They wanted him to learn to control the powerful magical ability they assumed he would develop at some point, but not be reliant on it. Their son would learn to live in both the magical and non-magical worlds.

Their approach seemed to be working. Gideon was happy and secure, but also aware of the advantages he had in life. Therefore, incidents that truly tested his easy-going personality were rare. Rumple needed to find out what had caused his son to cry. He tried a different approach.

“Should I call Ms. Blanchard? Maybe she’ll tell me what happened today.”

“Don’t!” Gideon exclaimed, sitting up quickly. His face was blotchy from crying. “She can’t tell you anyway, she wasn’t even there!”

“Wasn’t there for what?”

Gideon looked down, sullen. “Nothing.”

“Son… come here.” Rumple held out an arm, and Gideon scooted under and nestled against his father’s side. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Maybe… maybe it would be better if I wait and talk to Mum.” His voice was muffled against Rumple’s suit, but his words carried clearly enough.

Rumple made himself wait a moment before replying; there were several topics that Gideon preferred to discuss with Belle. However, none of them typically reduced him to tears.

“May I ask why you can tell your mother, and not me?” he asked.

“Cause Mum won’t go all Azkaban when she finds out what Robin said!” Gideon exclaimed, before his eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath. He hadn’t meant to speak the name, that was clear.

“And what did Robin Mills say to you?” The boy opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. “Gideon. Tell me now, what she said.”

“Her mom told her that… that I’m a bastard,” he mumbled, looking down.  

He took a moment to squash the fury that the word caused to flare up in him. When he thought he had it under control, he asked, “And do you know what that means?”

“Yeah. It means that you and Mum aren’t my real parents. But I know you are, and I told Robin that!”

“And you’re right. We’re your parents, and we love you more than anything.”

He hugged his son close, silently cursing Zelena Mills. He didn’t blame Robin, who was only a little older than Gideon. Robin was a child and couldn’t be held responsible for the awful lessons her mother taught her. Zelena, though… if not for the grief it would cause her daughter, Rumple would indeed be tempted to ‘go Azakaban’ on the green witch.

“I told Robin we use blood magic all the time, and magic doesn’t lie,” Gideon said, snuggling close to him again. “The spells wouldn’t work if I weren’t your son. And she said she believed me, because she knows how magic works. She sneaks in her mum’s bedroom all the time and opens things that Ms. Mills locked up with blood magic.”

“Does she?” Rumple murmured, amused by the idea of Zelena’s daughter defying her. “So if she believes you, what’s the problem?”

“ _She_ said she believed me, but other kids heard her say I’m a bastard, and now they won’t stop saying it!”

“Won’t stop saying what?” Belle’s voice came from the doorway.

“Mum!” Gideon went to her immediately, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder. If he kept growing at his current rate, he’d soon have to bend down to hug her like that.

“The kids at school are calling me names,” he told her.

“Oh, sweetheart… I’m sorry. Kids can be mean, you know that.” Belle stroked his hair, sending a look over his shoulder to Rumple.

“They keep calling me a bastard and saying you can’t be my real parents, because I’m going to be so tall and you two aren’t tall, and--”

“Whoa, Gideon, slow down. What do our heights have to do with anything?” Rumple asked. “Come here, son. Sit down, and tell us everything.”

With Gideon seated between them on the edge of his bed, Belle repeated the question. “Why do our heights matter, Gideon?”

“Because it’s genetic,” he explained, looking put out that he had to explain this. “We’re learning about genetics and which traits are passed down from parents to children. Both of you are short, so I should be too, but I’m going to be tall.”

“And how would your classmates know how tall you’re going to be?” Rumple asked.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows that, Papa. All their parents told them how I showed up a week after I was born, and I was this freaky tall grown-up and tried to kill the Savior, and then I went back to being a baby again. It’s not really a secret.”

“Right… because stories like that count as _normal_ in Storybrooke,” Belle said. “But Gideon sweetheart, your classmates are right that physical traits like height get passed down, but what they’re failing to account for, is that genetics are incredibly unpredictable. Traits can skip generations, or show up out of the blue even if no one else in the family have them.”

“So… were your parents tall?” Gideon asked, turning to Rumple.

“Ahh… no. Neither of them were much taller than me. I never met my grandparents, but I don’t think you got your height from my side.”

He turned to Belle with a hopeful look.

“I know Grandpa Moe is kind of tall… well, taller than you two, anyway. What about your mom? Or your grandparents?”

“My mother was a little taller than me, and her parents were about the same, as best I can remember. They both died when I was pretty young. But I think you’re on to something with your Grandpa Moe; he might be taller than I remember your adult self being. I think it’s his side of the family that you get your height from.”

“Oh.” Gideon thought for a moment, then brightened. “So it just skipped you, like you said!”

Rumple never thought he’d be grateful for the existence of Maurice French, but that’s exactly the emotion he felt right now. He’d always had mixed feelings about Gideon having any sort of relationship with his maternal grandfather, but had allowed it because Belle wanted it… with the caveat that they monitored that relationship closely, and would put an end to it if Maurice was being a bad influence on his grandson.

Maurice had behaved himself thus far. They’d never seen any signs that he was trying to turn Gideon against his father, which had been Rumple’s biggest concern. Moe’s good behavior may have had something to do with the two visits he received from Rumple and Belle – separately, with neither of them aware of the other’s actions till later – warning him that if he wanted a relationship with his only grandchild, he would refrain from negative comments about Gideon’s parents, their relationship, or their parenting choices.

“Yes, that’s it.” Belle was hugging Gideon with a relieved smile. “You get your height from your Grandpa Moe. So you can tell all your classmates to cease and desist, hmm?”

“But they’re not going to just take my word for it,” Gideon pointed out. “Can we do a magical blood test? If we get one of Grandpa’s hairs, and use one of mine, we can do the test and prove it with magic!”

“You shouldn’t have to prove anything to anyone, Son.”

Gideon rolled his eyes again, unimpressed with his father’s naivete. “Of course I have to prove it, Papa. It’s elementary school. If they don’t see it for themselves, it never happened.”

“But they’ll believe the story about you being a tall adult and then coming back as a baby, even though they were all babies themselves at the time and can’t possibly remember it?”

Gideon threw his hands up. “Okay, so they believe what they want to! I don’t make the rules! But can we do the blood test, please? So I don’t have to listen to the entire school call me a bastard for the next three months, or however long it takes for something else to distract them?”

“Alright, Gideon, we’ll do it,” Belle soothed, rubbing his back. Rumple shot her a look over Gideon’s head. He didn’t like the idea that his son felt compelled to prove his parentage, just to satisfy the undisciplined brats he had as classmates. Belle shot him a look back, saying pointedly to Gideon, “If it will put your mind at ease, we’ll do it.”

Resigned, Rumple nodded his agreement. Anything for their son.

“Great! Can we go right now, and ask him for the hair?”

“Ahh… well.” Belle hesitated, groping for an excuse, and Rumple came up with one smoothly.

“You can’t go, because it’s our night to cook dinner. You and me. You’re going to learn to make salmon and asparagus tonight, remember?”

“Do I have to?” Gideon whined.

“Yes,” Rumple said firmly. “You know the rules. I’ll teach you how to do things with magic, but you’re also going to learn to do things _without_ magic. And that includes cooking. Your mum can go see your grandpa while we’re working on dinner.”

“That sounds like a great solution,” Belle beamed.

“Come along, Gideon. We should get started in the kitchen.”

Rumple ushered him out, sharing one last look with Belle as she followed him. Thank goodness they’d improved their communication from the early days of their relationship. They didn’t need to discuss it, to agree that it would be better if Gideon were not present when Maurice French was asked to help prove Gideon’s parentage. The man had restrained himself for ten years, but there was always the possibility that his deep loathing of Rumple would come out, and hurt their son.

“I’ll be right back!” Belle called from the door, and it closed behind her. Rumple urged his reluctant son into the kitchen.

“So Gideon, which do you think we should do first? Season the salmon, or trim the asparagus?”

The boy thought for a minute. “Are we going to be cooking anything in the oven?”

“As a matter of fact, we are,” Rumple answered, pleased that Gideon’s cooking lessons were starting to show results.

“So the first thing we do is turn on the oven, so it can be heating while we prep,” Gideon said, proud that he’d remembered.

“Excellent.”

They worked together, trimming the ends of the tender green asparagus and coating the salmon with olive oil, spices, and lemon juice. They decided to make dessert as well, as Gideon had been paying attention when his father asked earlier, and hadn’t forgotten the mention of cookies.

The counter was covered with baking ingredients and Rumple was adding the flour into the mixing bowl slowly as Gideon stirred it in, when he felt the tingle from his Dark One senses, telling him that he was being summoned. That hadn’t happened for a long time. What was even odder, was that his senses told him it was Belle summoning him, and she was right outside the door.

“You keep adding that flour in, a little at a time, and mixing it. I’ll be right back.”

Gideon nodded, intent on his task. Rumple wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, and slipped out the front door quietly. Belle stood on the top step, back to him, and he could tell right away something was wrong. Her shoulders were hunched, her arms wrapped around herself. She turned when he said her name and threw herself at him.

He drew her close and rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?” He held her away enough to see her face, and it was obvious she’d been crying. “What did your father say?” He would make that man pay for causing Belle to cry like this.

“He said… that the blood test wouldn’t work for Gideon, because he’s not my father,” Belle said, her voice shaking.

It took Rumple a moment to absorb her words. “Belle, I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Belle sniffled as she spoke. “Gideon isn’t the bastard. I am.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 writer: @boushh2187
> 
> PROMPT: KNIT

Rumple couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maurice had been keeping this from Belle for years, and if it weren’t for some children bothering their son, Belle would have known nothing about it. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Belle. She took it and began dabbing at her eyes and her sniffling nose.

“Did he say anything else?” he asked, as he took her gently by the arm and led her down a few steps.

They often would spend late afternoons on these steps, watching Gideon ride his bicycle back and forth in the warm afternoon light. They both settled down on one of the lower steps, and Rumple looked at Belle expectantly.

“All he said was that he wasn’t supposed to talk about any of it. I don’t know what “it” is. He wouldn’t say anything more. Honestly… I’m not sure I want to know more just yet either. This has really thrown me, Rumple. All my life I’ve believed this man was my father. He lied to me. My _mother_ lied to me.”

Rumpled rubbed her back soothingly. “It’s understandable that you need some time.”

“I’m going to get the truth out of him.”

The sound of the door behind them startled them both. “The truth about what?” Gideon asked as he sat on one of the steps above them.

“Son, your mother needs a moment.” Belle put her hand on Rumple’s arm and squeezed. He stopped and looked back at her.

“It’s OK. I don’t want to keep anything from Gideon, even for a moment.”

“This sounds serious.” Gideon’s eyes were wide as he looked between his parents.

“I’m afraid I learned something this afternoon that isn’t going to help with your school friends.” Belle took a deep breath. “Your grandfather… Maurice… he just informed me that he isn’t my biological father. He refused to tell me anything more than that, but I’ll find out more soon. He can’t keep this kind of information from me any longer.”

“Mum, I’m sorry.” Gideon hugged his mother, and Rumple could hear her sniffle a bit more against Gideon’s shoulder. Being on the top step afforded Gideon the extra height, and Rumple couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight of his son being so supportive of his mother. He squeezed Gideon’s shoulder to show his appreciation.

“We’ll find some other way to help you with your situation, Gideon,” Belle promised. 

“Mum, don’t worry about it right now. I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it…” Gideon’s voice trailed off as he turned to look at his father. Gideon must have seen the determination on Rumple’s face.

“I have a way, son. We don’t need Maurice for it. I just need the three of us. We will gather your classmates and anyone else who has doubts. Tomorrow. At the shop, or better yet, on the school grounds. Right after school. Tell Robin to spread the word. They won’t be disappointed.”

“Rumple, what are you planning?” Belle asked, with trepidation creeping into her voice.

“Oh don’t worry. It will be a harmless display. One might even consider it beautiful. Trust me.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned. It seemed as if this had gotten her mind off of Maurice’s revelation, at least for the moment.

“All right! I trust you, Papa. First I’m going to get the cookies out of the oven, and then I’m texting Robin!” Gideon bolted up and sprinted back into the house.

“Well at least he looks happy, and I haven’t ruined things for him.”

“Belle, you are the greatest light in his life, just as you are mine. You could never ruin anything for him.”

*****

It took one text to Robin and the news spread out to the entire student body, as well as their parents. The next afternoon, when the last bell rang, Rumple and Belle were ready. Students and teachers seemed to spill out of the school. Parents waited for students outside, taking backpacks for their children, or giving them afternoon snacks for the road. Some lingered behind, while others went on their way. Those that lingered could easily spot Rumplestiltskin in Mr. Gold’s signature three piece suit. In actual fact it was a new suit, but the tie and pocket square he wore were a gift from Gideon on Father’s day. They gave his black suit a bit of dark blue color. Belle always seemed to enjoy some color in his ensemble. He knew he stood out amongst the greenery of the school grounds. Truth be told, despite his short stature, he always stood out among the townsfolk of Storybrooke.

Belle seemed to agree. She approached him with an appreciative smile on her face. She stood in front of him wearing a lovely blue dress. She adjusted his tie, and then ran her hands along the front of his suit jacket. “I approve of the choice in attire.”

“Why thank you. I do try.” He winked at her, and she laughed out loud.

He looked over her shoulder and noticed the crowd gathering. “Are we attracting an audience?” she asked without turning around.

“Most definitely.”

“Good,” she said, and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“Putting on a show, sweetheart?”

“No. Just some appreciation for my husband. You’re the one who has promised a show.” She took his hand, and turned to face the gathering people of Storybrooke Elementary.

Within a moment, Gideon trotted toward them. He could be heard politely excusing himself through the crowd. He held a small folding table.

 “Here you go. I thought it might come in handy.” Gideon opened the folding table, and blew the hair out of his face. He let out a big sigh, obviously having carried the table quite a distance from the school.

“Good thinking, son.” Rumple picked up the small case he had set down on the ground when he arrived. He placed it flat on the folding table, and surveyed the crowd. Snow and David had just emerged from the school. David was carrying Snow’s bags. Zelena could also be seen in the back, while Robin had situated herself close to the front.

Rumple glanced at Belle and Gideon. “Are you two ready?” They nodded. Gideon was fidgeting somewhat, but Rumple knew that his son really wanted to get this done.

“It’s showtime.” Rumple spoke the words quietly to Belle and Gideon, and then loudly addressed the crowd. “Parents and students of Storybrooke Elementary. It has been brought to our attention that there are questions concerning Gideon Gold’s parentage.”

“We are here to put those questions to rest, even though we shouldn’t have to,” Belle continued for Rumple. “After today we fully expect the questions to come to a stop.”

“A complete stop,” Rumple reinforced, in a tone that was not to be challenged. Gideon continued to fidget beside him.

“Take a few deep breaths,” Belle whispered to Gideon. In the crowd, Robin gave Gideon a thumbs up.

Rumple turned and opened the case. He removed a vial with a small amount of liquid inside it. “This is a locator potion. Some of you have some experience with this. David over there, for example, used it to find Jefferson many years ago. It requires an object belonging to the person that one wants to find. In this case we will be using it a bit differently, but the basic premise is the same.”

Rumple placed the vial back in the case, and picked up a scissor. He could hear murmuring amongst the crowd.

“Belle, if you would be so kind as to allow me to take a single strand of hair.”

“Of course.” Belle smiled and turned her back towards him. Rumple raised the scissor and snipped a strand of her hair. He placed the scissor down and reached into the case to remove an empty vial. He placed the hair inside it. He glanced at the audience. They were certainly paying close attention.

“Now I will take a strand of hair from atop of my own head.” He plucked a hair from the top of his head so that it could be easily viewed by the audience. He still held the vial with Belle’s hair inside it. He took his own hair and placed it inside.

The reaction inside the vial was immediate. Rumple had seen this reaction before, when he’d done the same with Snow and Charming’s hairs. The two hairs intertwined on their own. He could see the audience squinting, trying to see what was happening. There was no question after what happened next. The two hairs glowed and floated together intertwined in the vial. There was an audible gasp.

“Just what exactly are we seeing?” a woman shouted from the middle of the audience.

“What exactly does that prove?” a younger male voice shouted immediately after.

“True love!” Gideon shouted back. Belle gently held him back. He had pitched himself forward in a defiant stance.

“He’s bottled true love,” Snow’s voice could be heard from the back. “He’s done it before.”

“You are correct. True love. The most powerful magic of all,” Rumple said. “And now I must ask our son Gideon to assist in the demonstration. Gideon will move away from us and hide amongst the crowd. I will turn my back so that I will not see where he has placed himself. Go ahead, son. Hide.” Rumple turned around, and Gideon moved forward.

A few minutes later, Belle tapped Rumple’s arm. “He’s ready,” she said.

Rumple turned around and took hold of the two vials he had used thus far. He held the locator potion in one hand and the bottled true love in the other. “Now what I will do is pour a small amount of the locator potion in this vial full of true love and we will watch it find the product of our true love, wherever he might be.”

Rumple poured the locator potion into the vial filled with true love and immediately a burst of yellow light emanated from the vial. The light emerged from the vial and sparkled much like pixie dust. It flew up into the air and left a trail behind it as it searched for Gideon. It almost looked like a golden, sparkly snake-like creature as it searched. The crowd gasped as the light ventured out among them. Finally it stopped near the back left of the crowd. It swirled high in the air at first and then it lowered itself, turning in wider and wider horizontal circles. The crowd backed away from it to reveal Gideon who was in the center of the swirling light.

“Any questions?” Rumple asked. He could hear Belle stifle a laugh beside him, and Gideon smiled broadly in the distance.

*****

The door of the flower shop, “Game of Thorns”, closed behind them. Rumplestiltskin turned the sign from open to closed, and locked the door. Belle’s high heels clicked on the tile floor as she approached the counter. Maurice stood there, mouth slightly ajar. Their success at the school had given Belle extra confidence to face Maurice and learn the truth.

“You need to tell me all of it. All of what you know,” Belle began, the emotion evident in her voice.

Rumple moved and stood behind her. He had brought his cane and he placed it in front of him. He leaned against it with both hands, and stared at Maurice. It was meant to be a nudge. A strong nudge.

“Belle, I told you. I was forbidden to speak of it.”

Belle ignored that. “Was Colette my real mother?”

“Yes.”

“Then who was my father?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then tell me what you do know! Please!”

Maurice sighed and bowed his head. “All I can tell you is this. I don’t even know if it’s all true.”

“What are you talking about? Spit it out,” Rumple said, with gritted teeth.

Maurice looked at Rumple, and he nervously began to speak. “I was a young man. I was walking in the woods. I liked to go there to clear my head. I found her there… Colette. She was upset. She was crying. She told me… she told me that she was a fairy. She was a fairy who had lost her wings, and that she was with child. She didn’t know what to do. She needed to hide. Someone was after her. Another fairy or someone... I don’t know. She was afraid. Terrified. I took her in. We married. We agreed the child would be raised as our own. That’s all I know, and I don’t even know if that’s the whole truth.”

Belle braced herself against the counter. Rumple was startled himself. The mention of fairies had shocked him. His own mother was a fairy… the Black Fairy. Even though his heart was racing he reached over to try and steady his wife. They looked up at Maurice.

“You… you never thought to ask more questions?” Belle asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“I was forbidden to speak of it. Your mother… she forbade it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter writer: @we-aim-to-misbehave
> 
> PROMPT: HEALING

“What do you mean, she forbade it?”

Maurice leaned heavily against the counter, his eyes downcast. “All she would tell me was that she was in danger, and if I asked too many questions, if I knew too much, she’d be found out. Both of you would be. So she said that, if I wanted to protect the two of you, I must never try to find out more.” He looked up and met her gaze. “Belle, I promise that’s all I know. I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but your mother and I agreed it was for the best that you not know.”

Belle leaned against her husband, shaking her head. “For the best,” she muttered. “Every time a decision is made for me, that’s what I hear. But every time it just makes things worse!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Let’s go home, Rumple.”

One arm around her shoulders, he turned and started moving toward the door. A soft sound that might have been Belle’s name came from Maurice, and she tensed. Rumplestiltskin didn’t stop, but as they walked he shot a look over his shoulder that told the other man in no uncertain terms that he’d better keep his distance. Maurice seemed to deflate, but he didn’t try to stop them from leaving.

Rumple guided a somewhat dazed Belle straight back to their house, his mind churning with idea after idea. Assuming Maurice was telling the truth, which he wasn’t yet convinced of, they’d have to find another route to get the answers Belle deserved. Seeing her feel this way made some of his more violent urges try to surface, but he had a good hold on himself. Knocking Maurice senseless with his cane was on his list of ideas, but it was toward the bottom. The ideas currently at the top of the list was more likely to yield results, and that was the important part. Once at home, he led her to the kitchen and sat her at the table before busying himself making tea.

“I just can’t believe it,” Belle murmured, gazing off at nothing. “My father isn’t my father, my mother was a fairy. It doesn’t seem real.”

“In fairness,” Rumple said, setting ot the tea before her, “your husband is the Dark One and your son is living through his second childhood. Much of our lives doesn’t seem real.”

A small smile crossed her face and he felt a bit of relief at the sight. He sat beside her and served her tea, adding her preferred amount of cream and sugar. She took a long sip and sighed. “It’s like when I found out that he stole my memories of her death,” she said softly. “Something important, something I should know, just taken away. Only this time it’s worse, because I was never even given the chance to know. The truth about my mother, about myself.” She rubbed her forehead with one hand. “At least then I had a way to retrieve the truth. Now I’m not sure what to do.”

Quick footsteps coming down the stairs alerted them to Gideon’s approach, and Belle sat up straighter. Their son poked his head through the doorway, looking at them both with wide and curious eyes. “How did it go?” Belle motioned for him to enter the room and he went right over to her, giving her a swift hug before seating himself on her left side.

“We still don’t know much,” she said. “Apparently, my mother was a fairy who’d lost her wings.” Gideon’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t interrupt. “Maurice said she was pregnant with me when he encountered her, and that she seemed to be on the run from something. According to him, she said she couldn’t tell him anything more for fear of bringing danger to him, and to me. That’s all we’ve found out so far.”

“How can we find out more, if Grandpa Moe doesn’t know anything else?”

Belle looked over at Rumplestiltskin, saying, “I’m sure your father has some ideas.”

“How well you know me,” he said. “Three, to be exact. We can use a dream catcher memory spell to examine Moe’s memory of his first meeting with your mother, see if we spot any clues. As for fairies losing their wings, I know their leader has the ability to ‘demote’ them in that way.” He grimaced. “So there’s the option to speak to the blue fairy, although I doubt she’ll be very forthcoming even if she does know anything useful. Finally, I still have several books pertaining to fairy lore. It might be that we find some clues in one of them.”

“Gideon,” Belle said, “why don’t you help me look through those books?”

“Alright!” Gideon smiled brightly, clearly pleased to be asked to help.

“Go on to our library, I’ll meet you there,” Belle said, and he scampered off. She looked at her husband and took one of his hands. “I think you should try the dream catcher spell first,” she told him. “Save the blue fairy for last. If we need to speak to her, you and I can do that together.”

Rumple squeezed her hand with a rueful grin. “Heaven knows it’s better to have you with me if I have to speak to any of them,” he said. Then his face turned serious. “Belle, I know this whole situation is confusing and painful for you. I just wanted to say I’m going to do whatever I can to help you.”

Belle gave him that smile that still made his heart melt. “I know you are,” she said, leaning over and pressing her lips against his. “I love you.”

He touched his forehead to hers and whispered, “I love you too.”

***

Maurice was still in Game of Thorns, still looking somewhat stricken despite the time that had passed, and downright alarmed when he saw Rumplestiltskin enter alone. “What do you want?” he demanded.

“Relax, Mr. French, I’m not here to harm you.” Rumple held up the dream catcher he was carrying. “Belle wants me to collect your memory of meeting her mother. The sooner I get it, the sooner I can leave you in peace again.”

The larger man went red in the face. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Rumplestiltskin clenched his jaw. He hadn’t brought his cane this time, and as much as he disliked this man, he didn’t have any real desire to harm him. All he was interested in was helping Belle heal from the hurt she’d been dealt, and beating Maurice to a pulp wouldn’t accomplish that. “No, but you owe it to Belle, if you still want the privilege of calling her your daughter.”

Maurice’s face went from red to white in a second, and he seemed to deflate. “I didn’t want to hurt her,” he said, looking down at the floor. “I just wanted to protect her.”

“Your intent doesn’t matter now,” Rumple said, crossing the room. “The fact remains that she deserves the full truth, so let me take the memory to her.”

“It won’t show you anything I haven’t told you already.”

“Perhaps not, but it will show that you are telling as much truth as you know.”

Maurice didn’t look up, but he nodded. Rumplestiltskin held the dream catcher over the other man’s head, his power coaxing the memory into the web. It only took a few seconds, and he turned and strode toward the door as soon as it was done. Before he left, he said over his shoulder, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years of life, it’s that trying to protect the ones you love by lying to them never, never ends well. Remember that, Mr. French.”

***

Gideon and Belle were preparing dinner when Rumplestiltskin returned home. “How did the reading go?” he asked, moving to set the table when he saw that they were nearly done getting all the food ready.

“Not so great,” Gideon said, a little downcast.

“There isn’t much recorded about fairies losing their wings,” Belle said. “Either it doesn’t happen often enough for it to be written about, or they keep it secret when it does.”

“I think that’s more likely,” Rumple observed, laying out silverware. “Fairies are notoriously secretive about their shortcomings.” He paused before saying, “I got the memory from Maurice.”

Belle looked relieved, if a little apprehensive, and Gideon grinned. “Great job, Papa! When can we look at it?”

“I think we should have dinner before anything else,” he replied, “and I think your mother should see it on her own first, if she wants.”

Belle laid the food in the center of the table and motioned for them all to sit down. “Yes, I’d like that,” she said softly, a pensive expression on her face.

“Alright, that’s fair,” Gideon said with a nod before scooping some chicken onto his plate.

Conversation at dinner was subdued, mostly consisting of Rumple asking Gideon if they had come across anything interesting in their reading. The three of them cleaned up together when they had finished, and Belle excused herself upstairs once it was done, taking the dream catcher with her. She didn’t appear again, even to say goodnight when Gideon’s bedtime came. “Do you think she’s okay, Papa?” the boy asked as they walked to his room.

“She’s had quite a few shocks today, son,” Rumple said. “It’s going to take a bit of time for her to come to terms with everything.”

“Good thing she has us to help her,” Gideon said, and Rumple mussed his son’s hair with a chuckle.

“Yes, that is a good thing,” he replied, giving his son a hug. “Get some sleep, Gideon. We’ll see what we can do in the morning.”

“Night, Papa.”

“Good night, son.” Rumple left, closing Gideon’s bedroom door and making his way to his own room. When he entered, he found Belle sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall, the dream catcher dangling limply from one hand. “Belle?”

She blinked and looked up at him. “I haven’t looked at it yet,” she said by way of greeting. “I was going to but, I don’t know, I got a little scared. I wanted to wait for you.”

He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m here now, sweetheart. If you’re ready we can look, or we can wait. It’s your decision.”

Belle took a deep breath, leaning into his embrace. “No, I’m ready now. Let’s see it.” She lifted the dream catcher to eye level, and within a few seconds, it started glowing. The net disappeared as the magic came over it, and the image of a forest appeared. It was loud with animal sounds, chirping birds and scurrying critters. Suddenly, from a thick cluster of trees, a woman appeared. She was wearing the familiar dress that fairies wore, with floaty layers of fabric in varying shades of purple, clearly worn down in her travels. Her brown hair was piled on her head, strands escaping to hang down around her face, and when her gaze shot to Maurice, straight to the two of them watching the memory, Belle let out a gasp.

“Mother.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 writer: @beastlycheese
> 
> PROMPT: SMILE

Rumplestiltskin held his wife in his arms, she had finally fallen asleep, exhausted after an emotional night of sobbing.  He had not been immune from shedding tears, Belle and Colette were almost identical in looks, he had had a difficult time separating the two in his head.  To Rumple, it was Belle in the woods, ragged, forlorn, desperate. He hated being so helpless to calm his wife and save her mother.  If Colette had called him at the time he could have rescued her, given her sanctuary in his castle, brought up Belle, kept them safe.  But that would have never worked, he knew he would have been a jerk, Colette would have been his prisoner, he wouldn’t have treated an ex-fairy well, Belle would have probably been the asking price.  He would have found her a loving home, there were plenty of desperate couples clamoring for deals with him for babies. But she would have been separated from her real mother and he didn’t think Belle would ever forgive him for that.

He must have nodded off for a while because he was woken suddenly by his wife. She was sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes still red and swollen.      

“Plot holes, plot holes, it makes no sense” she muttered. “If this was one of my stories Rumple, I would be questioning the characters’ intentions.  If Mum was so afraid of being found she wouldn’t want to be Queen, would she?  That would be far too public a position. It looks like magical trouble she was in, a castle full of troops would be no use to her.  If D..Moe was Prince of Avonlea the State would go mad if he suddenly turned up with some random half-fairy that he found in the woods and suddenly wanted to marry in a hurry.  I mean look at the fuss he made about my arranged marriage, he believed it was a business transaction, arranged for political gain, you did not have a free choice but did your duty to the State. The story just does not add up.”

Rumple nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right, of course, his memory certainly matched his story but I’m guessing that we are missing something crucial here. Do we have any records left from the time of Moe and Colette’s wedding or their coronation?”

“No all destroyed by ogres.  The library was decimated and set on fire.  It was the most badly damaged part of the palace. When I think of all we lost…obviously the people were more valuable, but it was like our whole history, our very existence was wiped out too.”

Rumple held Belle in his arms as she started to cry again.  “What would you like to do next my love? He asked.  “Go back to Moe? Perhaps I could dig out my cane, it may jog his memory some more. Or Blue, that nasty little gnat is bound to be involved in this mess somewhere.”

“No Rum, I know you want to punish Moe but he at least did take my Mum into his protection, he kept har as safe as he could, he did not break that promise.  His attitude towards me starts to make a bit more sense now, but he did look after us, I am grateful for that at least.  As for talking to Blue I would like to get my facts straight before I talk to her and I want to keep this as secret as possible. If he survived, my real father and Gideon’s grandfather could be walking around town. Does he know? Will he want to know us? I’m just wracking my brain going through every male resident of Storybrooke wondering, fearing, hoping.”

“We can rule out Leroy” smirked Rumple.  “He has the dark hair and brown eyes, but he doesn’t add any of the height we need to explain Gideon. Thank the gods, can you imagine him as the Dark One’s father-in-law?”

“That’s it, remember that game Gid likes - ‘Guess Who’? We could make a Storybrooke size game of that, narrow everyone down by hair, height and eye colour.  We need an incident room like those TV cop shows, photographs, charts.  Bring me every book you have on fairy lore and Avonlea.  Let’s get started we have a mystery to uncover.”

Soon the office was turned into Mission Control.  Gid and Rumple were going through the online census, making a list of all viable candidates.  Belle was surrounded by books and scrolls peering at them with a slight squint.  Rumple didn’t want to suggest she get reading glasses again, he had only just been forgiven for the last indiscretion, at some point her arms just wouldn’t be long enough and she would have to concede her age was catching up with her.  Every now and the Belle would huff and read out some gem of fairy wisdom or idiocy, Rumple would grumble in response and would only become cheery when Gid finished another charming picture for their candidate’s board. After a couple of hours search it became apparent that they hardly ever noticed the colour of people’s eyes and that that fairies mainly lost their wings due to two unforgiveable crimes – the misuse of fairy dust and “liaisons” with humans.  Since Colette was pregnant they were guessing it was the second cause in her case.  The details of names of the accused were very few.  It seemed once you were de-winged all traces of you from the record books were destroyed. The other thing that was apparent was that half-fairies were deemed inferior and held minor sub-servient positions.  Sadly it seemed that Colette’s life as a fairy would have been an uncomfortable one.

A full day of detecting had yielded no concrete leads.  Mr and Mrs Gold were cuddled up in bed, scrolls strewn across the bedside table, they were just too exhausted to carry on reading. Belle decided on a different tack.  If the official documents were too sanitized to reveal any clues she needed to get word of mouth testimony.  If gossip was what she needed, she knew exactly where to go next.

“Astrid could hold the key,” Belle explained. “She may have heard some rumours about fairies being de-winged around that time. Blue surely wouldn’t miss an opportunity to scare the living day lights out of all her minions.”

“Good idea. But how are you going to get her on that subject when Leroy is always around worrying that you are spying for me.”

Belle grinned. “I have my secret weapon. Granny and Ruby have just released this year’s lethal home- brewed wine – Elderberry and Blackcurrant Blast. Leroy will overindulge and pass out, Astrid will start to talk.”

“Perfect!” smiled Rumple, “but best to record it because last time you had Ruby’s wine you couldn’t remember your own name.”

By the weekend they were in possession of a three-hour tape of Astrid’s drunken reminiscences of life on the wing.  Belle was also in possession of a thumping headache and chronic indigestion.  Groaning and keeping her eyes firmly shut she listened to the fairy gossip her way through a full bottle of wine.

Yes, there had been a de-winging and to none other than Blue’s half-sister.  It had been a terrible scandal.  This fairy had held a special status being related to Blue and it had been prophesized that she would bring up a child who would be so brave that they would defeat the greatest monster in all the realms.  She had been nicknamed “Ogre slayer’s nanny” but no one knew what had happened to her and no one had dared to ask Blue for fear of being next on her hit list. Astrid had however no knowledge of her crimes or of any human relationships she may have had.

There was nothing for it but to confront Blue.  Rumple had been persuaded to stay and watch Gideon while Belle did the brave thing.  The convent was as drab as ever and after waiting a ridiculous amount of time Belle was finally granted an audience with Mother Superior.

Belle got straight down to business, “Hello Aunt”, she began. Blue was taken aback sitting down and frowning before she responded.

“So that sniveling peasant French finally spilled the beans, did he? I always thought he would break when my dearest idiot sister gave birth to a girl.  He could never get his head round a female being the brave one that would save the kingdom.  But it was that prophecy that got him the kingship.  ‘For he so nobly fought off the beasts who killed their prince and saved the bride who would protect their Avonlea.’  Idiot humans the lot of them.  Colette didn’t deserve to get a happy ever after, she was a half-blood, she only survived because of my protection and that ridiculous prophecy. But it was still not good enough of a life for her.  She betrayed us all with her ugly beast of a human.  I just loved seeing their faces when they knew they could never be together, for  I cursed them if either of them uttered the other’s name they would die. I couldn’t mess with your destiny, but I could keep her separated from her _love_.”

She couldn’t listen to any more of this vitriol. Blue’s face was contorted and almost purple with rage. Belle slammed the door and ran as fast as her wee legs would take her home, away from the nightmare of her mother’s family and into the arms of her loving one. 

Rumple of course, had to be talked round from taking immediate revenge.  Belle still felt she might get the name of her father out of her eventually and for that they needed her alive, for that to happen they both needed to keep a distance.  They agreed to try and sleep on it. 

Belle couldn’t even begin to try and relax.  She sat in Mission Control, fidgeting.  Rumple tried to soothe her, with tea, a foot massage, some chocolates, chamomile tea, soft music, a shoulder rub. 

She was now going through Gideon’s drawings of all his possible grandpas.  He had written notes on the back of most of them. 

 

No – smells

No – shouted at me in his shop for looking

Bad breath

Nose hair 

 

His little comments were finally making them smile.  He seemed to favour the sweet shop owner but the size of his shoes worried him because although he didn’t mind inheriting being tall he didn’t want clown feet.  They then found a card _filled_ with his scrawl.  This candidate had given him sweets, had pushed him and his friends on the swings and apparently looked at mom like she was sunshine.  Belle and Rum looked at each other both feeling a tingle, they held hands and Belle slowly turned over the card.

“Dove!” exclaimed Rumple. “Well he is tall, a giant,

“…an ugly beast of a human, was what Blue called my father”

“But he is mute, never smiles, thumps people for a living, never says a word”, continued Rumple, his voice all full of incredulity.

“Never says a word to protect his love, his family,” responded Belle.  “He is always there to protect you, us, the family.  And, oh my, why didn’t I register it before, in the dreamcatcher, there in the forest with mum, was a dove!”

“Blue is going to fry!”, seethed Rumple. “Get your coat!”

“No Rumple don’t do anything too hasty, you promised for our sakes to seek justice by other means than violence.”

“No, not that Belle, we must see him, Dove, your Dad, right now!”

The Gold family drove quickly through the streets of Storybrooke, eager to find the missing link to their happiness.  They all stood nervously on the doorstop, arranging their hair and clothing to look their best.  A very surprised Mr Dove opened the door, filling it, towering over them, a worried look on his face.

“Father?” asked Belle.

That was the day that they discovered that Grandpa Dove gave great hugs and had the world’s brightest smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter writer: @mariequitecontrarie
> 
> PROMPT: TRUTH

“Mr. and Mrs. Gold. And Gideon.” Surprise wrinkling his forehead, Mr. Dove stepped out of the doorway. He waved a meaty hand, ushering them through the open door, into the sparse, white living room of a modest home.

Gideon shifted and shook his head. It felt like they were in the center of the Doctor Strange movie, when the Sorcerer had used the time stone. They’d stepped in the front door, Mr. Dove had smiled and hugged him, and it had felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket. But now they were walking in the front door again? His head hurt and his throat felt scratchy. This wasn’t right.

“Is anything wrong, sir?” Dove asked Papa in a quiet voice. “Did I forget to water the hydrangea bushes?” Mr. Dove turned to Mum, his gaze lowered to the floor. “Mrs. Gold, I’m sorry, your father isn’t here and I’ve not seen him.”

 _What the …?_ Gideon stared at Mr. Dove in open-mouthed shock. Those were the most words he had ever heard him speak at once. Also he was confused. Why was he talking to Papa about watering plants? Didn’t Mr. Dove own a candy shop now? Just the other day, Papa had bought him a bag of his favorite red licorice whips and a half pound of chocolates for Mum. Or had it been caramels for Mum and sour worms for him? Suddenly he couldn’t remember. Thinking was making his head pound.

Mum took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking. She was nervous, Gideon realized, but she was going to be brave anyway, like the hero she’d named him after. His tummy jumped with expectation. He loved the idea of having more grandparents.

“Dove, I need to ask you a question,” Belle said, searching the other man’s eyes. “Are you my father?”

Gideon blinked. Mr. Dove ran a hand over his bald white scalp and for a moment the white continued down the front of his body, replacing Mr. Dove’s somber black suit with a stark white coat. Gideon rubbed his eyes and the white coat went away, the entire room turning reassuringly brighter in return.

Mr. Dove shook his head. “That’s not why you’re here.”

“It is,” Mum insisted, glancing at Papa. Papa took a step closer to her and put a reassuring arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his embrace. “I need answers. We all do. Blue said…”

“The Blue Fairy? And you believed her? Fairies are liars, Mrs. Gold.” Mr. Dove’s eyes grew huge, black and beady, like the bird he was named after. He laughed shrilly, the high-pitched sound an unnatural contrast to his quiet, rumbling voice. “You of all people should recognize the truth of that. You’re a fairy, too,” he said, his dark, piercing eyes pinning Papa and then Gideon. “You’re all fairies!” he cried.

Mum bit her lip. “Please, Dove... who will teach me to fly?”

Frightened, Gideon backpedaled toward the door and covered his ears to block out the terrible shrieking sounds Mr. Dove was making. He clenched his eyes closed, wishing he was young enough to believe that if he couldn’t see them, he could be somewhere else—anywhere else. An image of a cage flashed into his mind and bile rose in his throat. Mr. Dove’s shrieks sounded like black rage, or gut-wrenching sobs, or maybe it was his mother crying? Gideon forced his eyes open. Papa stood as still as a statue with his head cocked, watching Mr. Dove taunt Mum and laugh in her face. Why wasn’t he throwing a fireball or casting a spell? Anything to stop those horrible noises!

Gideon pressed himself up against the wall and tried to think. If only he could remember one of the spells Papa was teaching him, he could end this.  He jammed his forefingers into his temples and tried to concentrate, but nothing came out of his mouth but silent cries.

He was frozen; he couldn’t move, he couldn’t scream. He wanted to call out to his Papa, to beg for help, for Papa to make everything better like he always did but he couldn’t make a sound. The world swirled, the edges of the room turning fuzzy.

“Liars!” Dove screeched again.

_Liars, liars, liars, liars...._

xoxo

Gideon struggled against the darkness, desperate to open his eyes.

He couldn’t seem to wake up. His eyelids felt like they were glued shut with the thick, sticky lanolin Papa used in the shop for waterproofing. The pungent odor of antiseptic pinched his nostrils. At last he pried his eyes open, blinking up at a cracked white ceiling. “Is the asparagus burned?” he blurted. “Did I ruin dinner?”

Every muscle in his body complained and his breath rushed out in a whoosh. His lungs felt tight, like the day he’d fallen from the top of the bleachers at the park and had the wind knocked out of him.

“Asparagus?” Papa’s face swam into view. Dark circles wreathed his eyes; he looked like he needed a nap. “Son, that was two days ago.”

Black and grey whiskers covered the lower half of his father’s face and Gideon blinked again. “When did you grow a beard?”

An amused glint entered Papa’s eyes, banking the worry lodged there. He scratched at his hairy cheek. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Rip van Winkle. You gave us quite a scare.”

 “What?” Gideon struggled onto his elbows, sending pillows careening to the floor as he tried to sit up. “Where’s Mr. Dove? I thought he would hug me and smile at me, but instead he was mean.”

“Lay back, Gideon,” said a familiar, no-nonsense voice. Mum. Her smile was strained but gentle as she leaned over him from the opposite side of the bed. She pressed a cool cloth to his forehead, the soft fabric soothing against his damp, prickly skin. “Don’t try to talk all at once.”

He glanced around the room noting the television mounted on the wall opposite the bed, instead of shelves lined with bookcases. Nope, this was definitely not his bedroom at home.

“Where are we?” he managed to ask.

“Storybrooke General Hospital,” Mum said, and he felt her slight weight dip the edge of the mattress as she sat on the corner and smoothed the blankets. “After we finished making dinner the other night, you ate three bites and went straight to bed. You were burning up during the night and Doctor Whale said we should bring you here. You’ve been asleep for almost two full days.”

“Let’s have Doctor Whale check you out, then how about some ice cream?” Papa asked with a smile.

xoxo

“Now, what’s all this about Mr. Dove?” Mum asked, after a nurse with Dalmatian puppies all over her shirt had checked his temperature, listened to his breathing, and examined his eyes.  

While licking a cherry popsicle—his third—Gideon revealed the entire bizarre dream, from Papa and Mama proving they were his parents, to Grandma Colette losing her fairy wings, to confronting Blue, to the three of them showing up on Mr. Dove’s doorstep demanding to know if he was Mum’s father.

At the mention of fairy wings, Mum and Papa shared a glance and Gideon felt color rise in his cheeks. It sounded silly when he said it out loud, especially because he knew Papa and fairies didn’t mix. He hadn’t meant to have such a weird dream! He didn’t know why he had. The cloying sweetness of the popsicle was suddenly too much and his stomach roiled.

“Dove owned a candy store?” Papa mused, pacing up and down the foot of Gideon’s hospital bed. “Strange. I can’t picture him chatting up children and selling Pez dispensers and chocolate bars.”

“So none of it was real?” Crestfallen, Gideon looked between his parents, the unappetizing popsicle dripping down his hand. His heart hurt, a bit like when he was hungry and his tummy was empty. He felt like he’d lost something, like there was a hole inside him. The dream had been so vivid and he’d been convinced that he, Mum, and Papa were working together to solve a great mystery … and find more family. “Grandpa Moe really is your father?”

“Well, the part where Robin Mills was unable to keep her mouth shut and mind her own business happened,” Papa said wryly and crossed his arms. “Like mother like daughter. As for the rest of it? No. I’m sorry, son.”

Memories flooded back to Gideon. Robin calling him a bastard, and the other kids in his class laughing at him, calling him Giddy the Green Giant and saying Mum and Papa were long-lost dwarves. He remembered running home in a blind rage and locking the door against his parents and Papa trying to coax him downstairs with cookies. After that, everything was fuzzy.

Mum’s smile was full of understanding. “Mr. Dove is a kind man,” she said, whisking away the melting popsicle and offering him a sip of water. “When we don’t feel confident in who we are, it can be tempting to look elsewhere for answers. Maybe you imagined Mr. Dove was your grandfather because you know there’ve been difficulties between Grandpa Moe and Papa and me. Dove is someone Papa has worked with for years. He trusts him—we all do—but he’s definitely not my father.”

“Robin Mills.” Papa was still grumbling to himself and pacing the length of the room. “Who does she think she is, anyway? As if the circumstances of her peculiar birth and parentage are anything to take pride in?”

Mama’s brows drew together in a warning glance, and for once it wasn’t directed at him. “Rumple,” she said crisply, “that’s for Robin’s mother to discuss with her. It’s not our place, and two wrongs don’t make a right, do they?”

Even he knew Mum wasn’t looking for an answer to her question.

“Hmmph,” Papa said, leaning on his cane with a smirk.

Their lighthearted bickering comforted him and he giggled.

“There’s a welcome sound,” Papa said. He leaned over to ruffle his hair, and Gideon grinned.

“I do love Grandpa Moe. I don’t even mind when he makes me spread smelly mulch in the garden or make boring rose bouquets in the store,” Gideon said. “But he doesn’t like you, does he, Papa? It’s nothing he says or does,” he rushed to assure his parents. “I can just tell and it makes me sad. How can you care about someone and still not like their choices?”

“You have such a tender, loving heart, Gideon,” Papa said. “Like your mother.”

“Oh, Gideon. There are times I struggle with Grandpa Moe being my father,” Mum confessed. “He’s hurt me and he’s been unfair to your Papa. I’ve forgiven him for his mistakes, but forgetting is another matter. But if he ever does anything to hurt you, I want you to tell us right away, all right?”

Gideon twisted on the damp pillow. His neck felt sweaty. “It’s more than that,” he insisted. He knew his father’s parents, Malcolm and Fiona, were evil and he’d heard the stories of how Papa had done away with them for good. But Grandma Colette had died long before Papa and Mum had even met. He thought of the framed black and white photograph of her that Mama kept on her bedroom dresser. Sometimes he would go in his parents’ room and run his fingers over the silver frame and wonder what it would feel like to have a grandmother. The empty feeling inside came rushing back. Was it possible to miss someone you’d never met? “What about Grandma Colette? We never talk about her. Why?”

Mum ducked her head and bit her lip. “We should talk about this when you’re feeling better, Gideon.”

"Muuuuum," Gideon whined. “I hate when you guys keep secrets.”

Papa nudged her. “He _is_ dreaming about it,” he said, “and dreams are of course manifestations of what is going on in the subconscious.”

“Yeah,” said Gideon, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, there’s no such thing as being too sick to hear the truth.”

“I hate when you both are right,” Mum muttered, but she was smiling again as she said the words. Then her smile faded and her eyes brimmed with tears. “I suppose I don’t talk about my mother much because I don’t like to think about my grief or my failings. I’ve always blamed myself for her death in the Ogres War. For a while, I couldn’t even remember how she died. I’ve tried to recover my memories from that day, but sometimes looking for answers costs more than learning the truth is worth.”

“I’m not trying to make you sad,” Gideon pleaded. He hated when Mum cried. “I just want to know what she was like.”

Mum scooted backward on the bed and put her arm around him. He leaned against her, letting her take his weight, and sighed. Papa pulled a chair closer to his bed and sat down.

“Mother was a fine scholar,” Mum said. “Smart, confident, and bookish.” Mum tapped his nose with her index finger. “You remind me of her, you know. She always taught me to be brave, and I always tried to follow her example.”

He lifted his head from her shoulder. “Like Gideon in _Her Handsome Hero?”_

A tear rolled down Mum’s cheek. “Yes, it was the first book she ever read to me.”

“And you decided to name me Gideon?”

She laughed, a low wet sound, and smiled at Papa. “A few other things happened before that. I had to meet and marry Papa first.”

“It doesn’t matter what the circumstances of a person’s birth is, Gideon,” Papa said. “After my mother cut me off from my destiny, I had to learn this truth myself. And after hundreds of years—and a lot of help from your mother—I finally did. Parenting has little to do with our DNA or a piece of paper declaring our bloodline.”

“Listen to your father.” Mum nodded. “It doesn’t matter if someone grows up in the care of biological parents or adoptive ones. And as for Storybrooke, it doesn’t matter what Robin Mills or anyone else believes about our family. All that matters is the love we share and the family we create. That’s all the proof of parentage you need.”

“Yes, Mum,” he said, resigned. They were right, he knew. Mum and Papa loved him and he didn’t have to prove it to anyone.

“Cheer up, Giddy,” Mum said, “You’re going to be out of the hospital tomorrow morning. Her eyes began to dance with excitement. “We haven’t gone on any adventures in a while, have we Rumple?”

“No, you’re right, sweetheart. We haven’t.”

“Once Gideon is completely well, perhaps we should return to our travels and visit my homeland in the Enchanted Forest? Gideon could continue his studies with me and we could learn more about Grandma Colette and her life.”

Gideon’s heart leapt. He loved visiting new places and getting to see where his Mama grew up was like a dream come true. Papa’s brow furrowed and his Mum shrugged, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“Belonging,” Mum said, as if that answered everything. His Papa nodded, the lines between his eyebrows smoothing, but now it was his turn to be confused. Mum squeezed his hand. “You’ve grown up in this realm but you’ve always known your Papa and I came from the Enchanted Forest. We’ve told you stories, but it’s not the same as seeing the place for yourself.”

“I think it’s a fine idea, Belle,” Papa said. “Gideon, what do you say to a new adventure?”

“Please!” Gideon blurted, his mind racing. “Will we get to ride horses? Henry says all knights ride horses.”

“So you want to be a knight, do you?” Mum teased.

Papa’s smile was indulgent. “I’m sure we can manage something. After you get some more rest.”

Gideon yawned and pouted in annoyance. He did _not_ want to go to sleep again. His eyes were growing heavy but he’d only woken up a few minutes ago. It wasn’t fair! His tummy twisted. Now that he was wide awake, the dream seemed silly but those helpless feelings were still there. He didn’t want to feel that way ever again. He bit his lip and fixed his eyes on his parents—his heroes.

“Where’s Cal?” he asked, giving into the pull of sleep. Mama had given him Cal, his teddy bear, when he was born. Cal was short for Excalibur because it protected him when Papa wasn’t home. “Will you get him from my room? And stay with me while I sleep?”

“Of course.” Papa snapped his fingers and Cal appeared in a puff of red smoke, then Papa tucked the tattered little brown bear under the covers.

“Can I hear the story again?” Gideon asked, his eyelids drooping. “The one where you met.”

Mum pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Once upon a time, a beast took a girl prisoner…”

THE END


End file.
